


mad at u

by thisainthannah



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angry Sex, Bottom Dream, DNF, Gay, Gream - Freeform, Kinky, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Makeup Sex, Oneshot, Smut, Top George, degrading, dreamnotfound, im so sorry mom, mlm, nut, rich bois, smutshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisainthannah/pseuds/thisainthannah
Summary: "nobody wants to hire a whore."
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	mad at u

**Author's Note:**

> no warning. just smut. degrading smut. have fun!

"Baby. Honey. My love."

To say that George was pissed was an understatement. He felt so embarrassed, so used. So upset.

And so full of vengeance.

Dream had decided that the night before George's big job interview at this extensive office in the hills was a perfect night to stain the man's neck with hickeys. To fuck up his walking. 

And his job interview as well. Nobody wanted to hire a whore, and he got denied. All because of his stupidly horny boyfriend wanting to fuck at midnight on a Tuesday. 

Here they sat, angrily in the car, driving to the grocery store. Even when they were both mad, they still went out together. Dream was a jealous bastard- George was hardly allowed to do so much as LOOK at other boys. Stranger or not.

Trust me, he'd made that mistake before.

"Fuck you, Clay. That was my one big shot at my dream job and you HAD to ruin it. Fuck you. I'm going to kill you when we get home, I swear."

"Fuck you, huh?"

"Don't be like that today. Just don't. You're lucky I have yet to swing by my parent's and borrow my dad's pistol yet."

Well, George, that wasn't very possible, considering your dad tried to use that same pistol when he found out that you had a boyfriend in the first place.

"Ha, like you'd even do that."

"Is that a bet, bitch?"

"Stop it."

"Fine. Only because I love you."

George grunted at the suck-up and returned his focus to driving.

Soon, the two had arrived at the lovely Costco that they spent their Wednesday and Sunday mornings at. Yes, they went grocery shopping twice a week. They made plenty of money.

Could be making more if Dream hadn't fucked up George's job interview.

"Can you grab milk? Whole milk," George told his boyfriend, and he silently obliged. He was so careful, careful to anger the already pissed-off man. Stupid brunette and his anger issues.

I mean, "anger issues" isn't really the term here. More like, "my boyfriend fucked up my career plans and I want to send him to fucking Mars" issues.

Or daddy issues. Those too.

Dream liked those.

He returned to George with the milk,

"Fucking finally," he'd muttered. Dream felt a pang of guilt, which escalated into a whole wave.

Like the waves that'd crash near the front doorstep of their beachside mansion if he'd not fucked up George's interview, and he'd gotten the job.

Sure, money was nice, but having a boyfriend as amazing as anything was the most capital-I Important to Dream. But he wasn't sure that George felt the same way after this whole job interview situation.

The two finished up their shopping and wordlessly headed out to the car. For once, Dream just wanted to be home so he could wallow in the guilt he felt for his lover, but sadly, there was a thirty minute drive between him and his comforting bed that he and George shared.

Drive was silent. Not a whisper, not a hum along to the radio. Just one man driving and the other staring out the window, glaring off into the city, clouded with raindrops that resembled the tears that Dream so desperately wanted to shed.

"Help me carry this shit in," George demanded, and so the two carried all of the grocery store purchases into the house.

Upon finishing, Dream immediately ran into the master bathroom and let those tears fall, letting light rain of salt turn into enough to refill the fucking Pacific.

"I'm so sorry baby," he whispered to himself/George into the mirror.

"Sorry for what?"

Fuck. It'd have been so, so smart to lock the fucking door.

"For fucking your job shit up!"

"It's okay, Clay. Nothing can ever make me stop loving you," George cooed as he consoled his crying boyfriend. What a way to spend your Wednesday morning.

"But I fucked it all u-" Dream started, but he was cut off by soft lips meeting his own. Aw shit, here we go again.

Makeup makeout?

"Dream," George softly moaned into the kiss. "Fuck."

"Is that a request?" he smirked in response.

"Whore..."

George led him off to their bedroom and pinned him against the soft bundle of blankets.

Usually, he was the one pinned down to the cloth, but Dream wasn't about to fight over that when he was possibly fixing things in their lover's quarrel.

"George..." he moaned as the smaller lightly sucked his neck, and arched his back when he'd hit a spot that he was more sensitive in.

"What do you want, baby? You want me to touch you? To love you?"

"I-I want you to fuck me, George."

"Oh, enough with that desperate shit. If you want it, you'll have to earn it back, baby."

And so Dream did everything in his power to earn back his touch. Whined, moaned, resisted every urge in him to just stand up and slam George into the wall. Slam him into the wall and fuck him until the daylight peeked through the curtains.

"Fuck," George said under his breath.

"Can I please have it?"

"Fiiine. We'll start small and work our way up."

George's fingers trailed down to the waistband of Dream's pants, and then those stupidly bright green boxers he was wearing.

"Oh my God, George, just fuck me already!"

"Be patient or you're not getting fucked at all, slut."

Well, that's a sure-fire way to shut Dream's loudmouth up. George slipped his hand into the boxers and began working on that cock, starting at the tip, stroking it with his thumb. Dream pressed his thighs together in pleasure, in desperateness. The whiny moans were like the finest music in George's ears as he sexually tortured Dream.

Finally, he decided to be gracious, and worked his way down the shaft. Precum beaded against his thumb, which made for a nice, easy lubricant.

"Ah, ah shit," Dream moaned as he felt fingers wrapping around his dick, slowly pumping. Soon they weren't so slow.

"Come on baby, scream for me," George said, smiling.

"FUUUCK, AHH, GE-" Dream moaned, but he was interrupted by his own climax. What a way to silence yourself.

"Good boy," George said. "My turn."

Dream threw himself onto the ground and onto his knees, right in front of George. Mouth leveled at his hard-on. Perfect positioning.

"Suck it," George said, and the bottom complied gladly. He took the tip in at first, but was soon filled with a mouthful as that dick rammed into the back of his throat. George swore he could feel his tip meeting Dream's uvula.

"Ah, fuck," he moaned as Dream gagged on his dick, tears welling up in his eyes, running down his face. The moans and gags and tears hitting his thighs were just too hot, and he soon came all down his boyfriend's throat.

"Swallow every last drop, little whore."

And so he did, devouring the salty white substance as he forced it down his throat.

"So... about getting fucked..."

Dream brought his puffy lips up to George's perfect ones and allowed them to connect. George kinda liked the way he could taste himself in his boyfriend's mouth. Hot.

"On the bed," George barked. Soon, the pantless man was stomach-down on their bed, and George was kneeling over him.

"Legs open."

Submissive little Dream opened his legs like the gates of Heaven, a place that these two horny bastards would only get to see when they were in their bedroom together, soaked in spit and cum and lube or whatever the fuck else they'd used that night.

Or in this case, day. It was fucking one in the afternoon. Kinky sex on a Wednesday afternoon?

George slipped a finger into Dream's ass, and then two more. Taking it one-by-one was something that neither of them ever considered during sexy time.

He scissored his fingers inside of the bottom, making him let out glorious moans that George loved to hear. He loved to be the cause.

"You ready, baby?" he asked Dream, and he got two things: a moan, and a nod.

George put on a condom, lubed up, and lined himself up with Dream and thrusted himself in, not bothering to go slow. They both were too desperate to take it slow anymore.

"Oh my God," Dream moaned. "H-Harder, please!"

George decided not to be a dickhead and just comply, and he thrusted harder, ramming into his prostate. He felt his dick get tightly trapped between Dream's walls, and this was why he found his hand pulling on his hair.

"Ow-ah," he screamed, moaning midway.

"I bet you liked that, dirty slut."

Hearing the stupid, degrading name was enough for Dream to blow his fucking load all over the sheets. And with one more thrust, George did the same. Not on the sheets.

Inside.

"Ugh, you did so good," Dream said jokingly.

"Fuck you, Clay."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?"


End file.
